


Closer

by WingsforWinter



Series: 30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dean in Panties, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Castiel, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Office Romance, Secretary Dean, Shy Dean, Spanking, Sub Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1770268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsforWinter/pseuds/WingsforWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was the best secretary Castiel ever had. Now if only he could get the man to stop turning into a stuttering, stumbling mess every time Castiel talked to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, Part 14 of the [30 Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge](http://ghiraher.tumblr.com/post/37135733342/30-day-cheesy-tropes-challenge)
> 
> Number 15: Office Romance AU!

 

 

 

 

If Castiel hadn’t seen with his own two eyes how his secretary acted around literally anyone else in the known universe, he would’ve thought the man was a bumbling idiot. That, or the fact that he had never had a tidier office or a more organized schedule in his entire working career.            

 

By all accounts, Dean was an amazing secretary… except for the fact that if Castiel so much has looked at him, Dean would start stammering, or dropping things, or—heaven forbid—tripping over his own feet and spilling coffee all over himself. It was a serious issue.

 

Castiel was convinced it was his fault, and he felt terrible. He really did.

 

He’d been told on a number of occasions that he came off as intimidating, imposing, severe. He felt he must have been scaring the poor young man to death without realizing. He’d been through four secretaries in the last six years and he really, _really_ didn’t want to start the hiring process all over again. Especially when he finally seemed to have found a secretary that actually _did their job_ , and didn’t complain about Castiel’s strange hours or his predilection for coffee so strong that his coworkers claimed it was a byproduct of an oil refinery.

 

Castiel never had to worry about being double-booked or missing important meetings. Dean instinctively knew which clients Castiel would want to talk to and which ones to ask to leave a message. He knew what Castiel would order for lunch on days he neglected to bring anything to work and never failed to stop Gabriel from barging in whenever his older brother felt like visiting, much to Gabriel’s chagrin.

 

And as if his work ethic wasn’t enough, Dean had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen and an ass Castiel was sure he could bounce a quarter off of. Not that Castiel had many chances to see either, lest Dean catch him looking and have an embolism in the hallway.

 

So Castiel endeavored to smile at Dean more, to compliment him on his exceptional work. But his efforts only made Dean’s spastic behavior worse. Every time Castiel praised him on a job well done, his secretary would flush fire engine red and practically fall all over himself to thank Castiel for noticing before fleeing out the door, only to run back seconds later and shut it gently behind him as Castiel preferred.

 

Castiel was stumped.

 

Eventually Castiel figured out that Dean responded best to direct orders. Commands, with little extra wording. After, if Dean completed the task well, Castiel would compliment him lightly. And though Dean would still flush and stammer, he was no longer dropping paperwork or falling over chairs. And if Castiel’s mind drifted during these exchanges, if he began wondering if his secretary would blush even redder had Castiel ordered him onto his knees rather than to make a copy or call a client… well, no one was the wiser. 

 

 

He hadn’t realized he had begun touching Dean until he caught Ava giving him a strange look one day as he carded a hand through his secretary’s hair. He was just commending Dean on finding a file that one of his coworkers carelessly discarded, saving Castiel at least a week’s worth of work. He pulled his hand back immediately, and Dean looked up at the loss of contact, confusion written as plain as the freckles on his face.

 

How long had Castiel been giving in to his daydreams without realizing, that Dean actually looked disappointed when he stopped?

 

Castiel backed off after that, only speaking to Dean when absolutely necessary. Dean was good at his job; he didn’t need Castiel barking orders at him all day. And Castiel sure as hell didn’t need HR to contact him on a sexual harassment charge.

 

It wasn’t long after Castiel began distancing himself from his secretary than Dean started making mistakes. They were small, and infrequent, but they left Castiel perplexed. Dean had never before made obvious spelling errors, or had to be reminded to forward important emails to the right people.

 

At first, Castiel essentially ignored them. He would fix the spelling errors and pass along the emails to their correct recipients, all the while wondering why Dean was suddenly off his game.

 

Unfortunately for Castiel, ignoring the issue wasn’t working out so well. The errors only increased with time. It wasn’t until his secretary put an important—and tedious to replace—document through the shredder minutes before the end of the workday that Castiel had had enough.

 

He called the younger man into his office, catching a glimpse of his coworkers moving en masse to the elevators before his secretary closed the door and stood, shuffling his feet in front of his desk.

 

“Please, sit.” Castiel gestured at the chair in front of him.

 

“I-I’m so sorry, Sir. I didn’t r-realize…”

 

“Sit. Down.” Castiel growled. He watched Dean shiver before hurrying to obey.

 

Once his secretary was seated Castiel stood. He walked around his desk to lean against it, towering over Dean, arms crossed.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked the trembling man.

 

Dean’s eyes flew up from where he’d had them resolutely trained on the floor. “Sir?”

 

“I asked if you were alright. Is everything ok at home? Breakup? Death in the family? Anything like that?”

 

“N-no Sir.”

 

“Then do you mind telling me why you have suddenly become inept at performing even the most basic functions of your job?”

 

Dean squirmed in his seat, refusing to meet Castiel’s gaze, cheeks flushed and hands smoothing down his pressed black slacks.

 

“Answer me, Dean.”

 

“I dunno.” Dean mumbled to the floor.

 

Castiel tsked, pushing off the desk to stand over his secretary, forcing the other man to lean back in his chair to look up at him. Castiel was a shrewd businessman. He knew how to read between the lines, to gauge risks versus rewards, and he now used the same insight that led him to becoming the youngest Marketing Director in the company’s history for an entirely different purpose.

 

“Now Dean, I think we both know that’s not true. You wanted my attention, and now you have it. The only question now, is what ever am I going to do with you?”

 

“S-sir?” Dean stuttered out, pupils expanding as Castiel reached out and threaded his fingers through his short, sandy hair, pulling just hard enough to tilt the younger man’s head back further.

 

Backlit by the setting sun streaming through the floor to ceiling windows of Castiel’s office, Dean was beautiful, resplendent. Castiel bent down until his lips were mere centimeters from Dean’s. He could feel his secretary’s shaky exhale, the fine tremor that ran through his body. Dean tried to close the distance, but Castiel tightened his grip on Dean’s hair, holding him back.

 

Castiel tsked once more, straightening up. “I don’t think you’ve earned that quite yet. You’ve been misbehaving, and now you are going to face the consequences.”

 

Dean moaned, eyes fluttering shut, and Castiel glanced at the door. Everyone should have left by now, and the cleaning crew didn’t come in for another hour or so.

 

“Before we go any further, do you have a safeword?” Castiel asked, backing away from Dean and shrugging out of his suit jacket. He started rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt and looked up when he heard nothing but heavy breathing from the other man.

 

Dean sat in the same position Castiel left him, eyes wide and disbelieving, slacks tented in his lap.

 

“Dean,” Castiel barked, startling his secretary, “do not make me ask you again.”

 

“S-stoplight?”

 

“Red, yellow, green?” Castiel clarified. Dean nodded, still looking shell-shocked.

 

“Excellent. Now, from here on out, you will use those words and nothing else unless I tell you you can. You will not touch yourself and you will not come until I say so. Do you understand? You may answer.”

 

“Yes.” Dean breathed.

 

“Yes what?” Castiel growled, loosening his tie.

 

“Yes, Sir!”

 

“Good boy. Undress.”

 

He watched the beautiful young man scramble to remove his shirt, getting tangled in the fabric. Castiel reached out a hand to steady him and Dean whimpered, pressing against his palm. Dean fumbled with his belt and then stopped, looking more nervous than he had since the week he started.

 

“I-I…”

 

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak, Dean. Either safeword or continue.” Castiel slid his hand from Dean’s shoulder up to the curve of his neck, squeezing lightly.

 

Dean took a shuddering breath and slid his pants down, and Castiel’s brain short-circuited.

 

Panties.

 

Pink, satin panties.

 

Jesus Christ.

 

Castiel slid a finger under the lace band failing to contain Dean’s flushed erection, utterly at a loss for words.

 

“Green.” Dean moaned, forcing Castiel back into the moment.

 

He moved to take off the slip of pink fabric, but Castiel caught his hands. “These stay on.” Dean grinned and it was Castiel’s turn to blush.

 

“Bend over the desk.” Castiel’s mouth was dry, voice rough. Dean obeyed without hesitating, and Castiel had to suppress a shudder.

 

Castiel took a moment to drink in the sight of his secretary, flushed and shaking with want, before dragging a hand down Dean’s spine to rest on the satin covered swell of his ass.

 

“I’m going to spank you with my open hand, and you will keep count. If I ask you the number and you get it wrong, I will add to your punishment.” He waited just until Dean nodded before lifting his hand and bringing it down with a satisfying smack.

 

He varied the intensity and location of the blows; from light, quick smacks where Dean’s ass and thigh met, to hard, punishing blows catching both of Dean’s cheeks at once. He stopped after every few to knead the reddened flesh and ask Dean for the number.

 

After an even 40, Castiel decided Dean had had enough.

 

“Green, green, green…” Dean sniffed and sobbed after Castiel landed the last blow and began pressing kisses to his freckled shoulders, petting his sweat-soaked spine, whispering praises.

 

“No more. You did so well, Dean. You didn’t lose count once. Such a good boy.”

 

Dean gave a shaky smile and pressed back into Castiel’s touch, panting and quivering. Castiel tugged at him gently and Dean lifted himself off the desk, only to drop to his knees, nuzzling the bulge in Castiel’s pants.

 

“Please Sir? Can I?” The green of Dean’s eyes shone even brighter with leftover tears as he gazed up at Castiel through his lashes, and Castiel didn’t have the strength to deny him, even if he wanted to.

 

Castiel nodded, and Dean’s trembling hands made quick work of the zipper, pulling Castiel’s cock through the opening and swallowing it down to the base. Castiel tangled both hands in Dean’s hair as he bobbed and sucked, hollowing his cheeks and working his tongue furiously against the underside. It only took a few more minutes for Castiel to come and Dean swallowed everything down, making happy little noises that made Castiel’s head spin.

 

Dean left one last kiss on the sensitive tip before tucking Castiel back into his pants, looking up at him expectantly. He sat down heavily in the visitors’ chair and pulled Dean onto his lap. Dean buried his face in the curve of Castiel’s neck and whimpered as Castiel’s arms came up to encircle him.

 

“Such a good boy. Lift your head up for me.”

 

Castiel caught Dean’s face in his hands and smiled when, even after all that they’ve just done, Dean blushed at making eye contact. He chuckled when Dean looked down, giving a small, shy smile of his own.

 

Castiel tilted his chin up and claimed his mouth like he’d wanted to so many times before. He could taste himself on Dean’s tongue. His secretary stiffened, then went liquid against him, molding himself to Castiel’s front. He could feel the hard line of Dean’s erection against his lower stomach and grinned into the kiss. Dean hadn’t come yet. Of course he hadn’t. He was perfect.

 

Castiel ran his hands down Dean’s back to his ass, still warm from the spanking. He toyed with the hem of Dean’s panties for a second before grabbing Dean’s ass and pulling him even closer, grinding Dean against him. He repeated the motion several times before Dean got the hint, moaning into the kiss and rutting against Castiel.

 

Castiel broke from the kiss and Dean buried his face in the crook of his neck as he picked up the pace. “Such a good boy, Dean. My perfect boy.” He stroked Dean’s hair and pressed light kisses to his jaw, urging the younger man on, whispering words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘mine.’ “I know you want to come in those pretty panties of yours, don’t you?” Dean nodded jerkily, motions frantic now.

 

Dean chased his orgasm with abandon, whimpers and moans muffled against Castiel’s shoulder. When Dean's hips started to stutter and the whimpering became more insistent, Castiel figured he was on the edge, waiting for Castiel to say the word. He slid a hand down the back of Dean's panties and pressed lightly at the younger man's hole, wishing he had been better prepared. Dean choked out another moan and pressed back, trembling and sweating and beautiful in his pleasure. “You may come, Dean. You’ve been so good. Come for me.”

 

Dean pulled back with a shuddering groan and Castiel saw the look of pure ecstasy that flitted across his face when he came, a telltale wet patch growing on the pink satin.

 

Castiel held him close as he came down, arranging him so he was no longer straddling his knees, curling him up against Castiel’s chest.

 

Eventually Dean had stopped shaking and started humming, playing absently with the end of Castiel’s tie. He smiled down at the man in his lap, but groaned when he caught sight of the clock. The cleaning crew would be there in minutes.

 

“Dean, it’s time to get up. We have to leave.” His secretary protested, snuggling in closer, nuzzling his nose behind Castiel’s ear. “I know, but I am not willing to share the sight of you naked with the janitors. Come home with me.”

 

It wasn’t like the commands he gave earlier, or even the orders he gave Dean when they were working. The choice was entirely up to Dean, and for a second his heart stuttered, thinking Dean might turn him down.

 

“Really?”

 

“Of course. I meant what I said before, Dean. Every word.” The look of joy Dean gave him was radiant, and Castiel leaned in to kiss him again.

 

He watched Dean get dressed, resenting the clothing and imagining tearing it off when they got to Castiel’s townhouse, when Dean began looking sheepish.

 

“What is it?”

 

Dean didn’t answer until Castiel forced his chin up. “You know the file I shredded?”

 

“It’s alright. It was quite a bit of work, but nothing that can’t be—”

 

“It was a copy.” Dean interrupted, blushing furiously. “It’s just, you were ignoring me and I didn’t know what to do and so I thought…”

 

“You…” Castiel stepped forward, curling a hand around the back of Dean’s neck. His secretary looked upset, but resigned, staring resolutely at his shoes. “You are _so_ going to get it when we get home.”

 

Dean looked up, shock melting into a hungry sort of grin that, until now, he’d never seen on the younger man.

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this fic was almost exclusively based on how Dean reacted to Aaron coming on to him in 8x13-Everybody Hates Hitler. Too adorable for words.


End file.
